


take my hand (take my whole life too)

by umbrellalich



Category: Sugar Pine 7 RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canonical Character Death, Drinking to Cope, Multi, Unrequited Love, amature brain surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbrellalich/pseuds/umbrellalich
Summary: "Andrew stared dumbfounded into the kitchen, gun still smoking in his shaking hand. Jeremy shoved past him and felt his knees nearly buckle.Good news, Parker was still alive. That’s a plus.Bad news, he had a bullet in his brain."A look into the events that occurred between Eye for an eye and We unkilled Parker.





	take my hand (take my whole life too)

Jeremy wasn’t one for personal connections. He enjoyed his status as an enigma and derived pleasure from everyone he knew being terrified of him. He had no need for any sort of intimate relationship, so when Parker died, he was shocked to find himself sad. After spending hours, days, weeks under the pier, Jeremy had realized he was wrong. He had made personal connections after all, and Parker was his best friend. Pretty shitty of him to only figure that out after the guy was dead.

So when Parker wasn’t dead, Jeremy didn’t really care about the logistics about the situation. All he cared about is that his best friend was alive again. He didn’t look into finding out why or how; instead, all his energy focused on making sure his friend was okay physically, mentally stable, and was having a hell of a good time being alive again.

At the end of the day though, Jeremy was a scientist, and how did Parker come back from the dead, anyway? Jeremy lightly suggested to Parker that he go tell Andrew he was alive, and the other man ate it right up, bounding out of the house with a skip in his step. This gave Jeremy the perfect opportunity to figure out what the fuck the Sugar Pines were up to. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew they were involved.

He tailed them from park to park, trying to get a read on them. It was odd though, even for him, when they went up to that rock on the Cobb Estate. Jeremy didn’t know Autumn that well, but he was pretty sure lasers didn’t normally spew from human eyeballs. The behavior of James and Cib was weird, too. He left in a rush before they could see him, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Why was James spitting up blood? Why did Autumn have laser eyes? What could this mean for Parker? Were these things connected? It was too big a coincidence to not be intertwined somehow.

Jeremy spent the entire drive back trying to solve this mystery, entirely wrapped up in it. So wrapped up, in fact, that he almost missed the gunshot echoing out of his house.

He ran into the house, barely bothering to slam his car door shut.

Andrew stared dumbfounded into the kitchen, gun still smoking in his shaking hand. Jeremy shoved past him and felt his knees nearly buckle.

Good news, Parker was still alive. That’s a plus.

Bad news, he had a bullet in his brain.

Blood gushed from the wound, leaving a bright red streak down his face. It dripped off his chin to his hand, from his hand to the floor, leaving the faint patter of blood drops on tile as the only noise in the apartment.

The default iPhone marimba tone sounded through the room. Andrew jumped hard and Jeremy dove for the gun, snatching it out of his hand with a practiced motion. He swiftly disconnected the magazine with one hand, kicking it across the room. Andrew’s eyes flickered rapidly between the now worthless gun, Jeremy, and the hole in Parker’s head, his chest rising and falling like it was powering a steam engine. He turned and bolted, streaking out of the house before Jeremy could move to stop him.

Parker was still staring at the blood pooling in his hand, his breathing uneven.

“Parker,” Jeremy said hesitantly, taking a step towards him. Parker’s eyes shot up to meet his own, confusion riddling his face, and the tone sounded again.

This time, Jeremy recognized it as his own phone mysteriously off silent. He ripped it out of his back pocket, reading ‘Steve’ on the display. He sighed hard and slid his thumb across the screen.

“Listen Steve, this isn’t a great time -”

Jeremy’s rant was cut off by Steve’s rough, ragged breathing. Was he crying?

“Ci-Cib-Cib is-C,” Steve stuttered, voice thick. Definitely crying then.

“Steven, I can’t understand you,” Jeremy said. The apartment was deathly quiet, meaning Parker would be able to hear the conversation. He thought about stepping out of the room - Cib was bound to be a sore subject - but Parker was looking at him desperately and Jeremy felt rooted to the ground.

There was a muffled shuffling noise as Steve passed the phone to the next person, a quiet bickering between himself and the rest of the room.

The next voice he heard rang out clear as day.

“Cib’s dead,” Autumn said, her voice unwavering.

Parker’s breath caught from across the room. His hand involuntarily moved, sending a puddle of blood splashing against the white tile. That would be a bitch to get out.

“What...what do you mean Cib is dead?” Jeremy asked, never moving his eyes off Parker’s face.

“He, uh, fell? He was being weird and then he fell, and at first we thought it was a joke but he doesn’t have a pulse.”

“How long was he being weird before he died?”

“I don’t know, uh, since we went to the park today? My memory is kinda hazy so like…I don’t know for sure.”

Jeremy nodded, his eyes boring another hole into Parker’s face. Parker was pointedly staring back at the tiles, his breathing even more erratic than when he had literally just been shot which, to Jeremy, was a bad sign.

“How did Cib fall?” Jeremy asked reluctantly. He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“I wasn’t paying attention but we looked at the footage and it was like...it was weird. It was like he got shot or something. Hey, James -” Autumn’s voice cut off and she moved the phone away from her face, presumably to comfort the other man.

Jeremy kept staring at Parker’s gunshot, the blood still oozing a crimson track down his body. He had, of course, already known the answer. This was gonna be a rough evening.

“Autumn? Do me a favor?”

“Yeah, of course,” she said, her voice cracking. In the background, he could hear muffled cries, undoubtedly coming from James and Steve.

“Don’t do anything to the body just yet. Give me like an hour.”

“An hour for what?”

“Just...an hour. Trust me,” Jeremy said, hanging up before she could respond.

Parker took a sharp breath, looking at Jeremy again, for the first time since the phone call had begun.

“Cib’s dead?” He said, his tone upturning at the end, as if it was a question and not a statement of facts.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jeremy answered instead.

Parker washed his face in the kitchen sink with dish soap. Jeremy ran downstairs to get his medical kit he stole out of the back of an ambulance a while back. At the time, he took it just to have some medical grade thread, for all the times he accidentally slashed his body to bits practicing knife throwing.

At least he had gotten practiced with keeping his hand steady. He wasn’t exactly sure how he could sew up a skull.

Parker was stretched out on the kitchen table, as Jeremy had asked. He was absently staring at the ceiling, eyes unfocused.

Jeremy slapped his medical bag and a bottle of whiskey down on the table, tossing his sunglasses off with a casual flick as he did so.

“I’m gonna be honest, I have to pull a bullet out of your brain. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch.” Jeremy said, gesturing towards the bottle.

Parker nodded and took a huge swig, before laying back down and closing his eyes.

Jeremy grabbed a pair of giant tweezers out and a headlamp from the bag, sliding it on his head and clicking it on. He got to work, pulling fragments of bullet and skull out of the wound and dropping them on the table. Parker’s head seemed to already be healing, or Andrew was a lousy shot, or both, because everything was pretty close to the surface and his brain didn’t appear to be swelling. Jeremy was relieved, because even though he was 99% sure nothing could kill Parker right now, he didn’t want to test that theory with trephination.

Parker stayed shockingly quiet throughout the entire procedure, occasionally biting down on his lip or balling his fists. He didn’t flinch, though, so Jeremy was able to remove all the dangerous fragments in record time. Or at least, a record for him, since this was his first try on a skull.

He sat Parker up, slipping on a glove to line the wound in antibacterial cream before bandaging him up.

“You’re all set,” Jeremy said, stepping back so Parker would have room to get off the table. Parker swung his legs off, glanced over at the pile of bone and metal fragments, and grabbed the bottle of whiskey again. He slammed another shot or two.

“I thought you didn’t like whiskey?” Jeremy asked.

“I don’t,” Parker replied, screwing the lid back on but keeping the bottle in his hand. He sighed hard and pushed himself off the table.

“Cib’s dead,” Parker said again, his eyes exhausted.

“Let’s go sit,” Jeremy said, pushing Parker gently towards the couch. Though his face and hands were clean, Jeremy could smell the dried blood on Parker’s shirt and see the splatter on his jeans.

Parker sat down on the loveseat, folding in on himself, still nursing his bottle of whiskey. Jeremy grabbed the armchair, throwing his feet up on the coffee table. He waited for the inevitable.

“Cib’s dead,” Parker tried again.

“Cib’s dead.” Jeremy agreed, out-turning his hands in a shrugging gesture.

Parker unscrewed the lid and flicked it across the living room. He took a big swig, swallowing hard.

“Jeremy,” Parker began, swirling the amber liquid in the half empty-bottle, “do you know what’s going on?”

“What gave you that impression?” Jeremy asked, keeping his expression blank.

“You just casually performed brain surgery on me, for one. And Steve called you first.”

“To be fair, they do think you’re dead. It’s not like he was gonna call Andrew first.”

Parker gave him a look, empty and hopeless and full of disbelief. Jeremy sighed.

“Okay, maybe I do.”

Parker continued to stare blankly. Jeremy sat up straighter, pulling his feet off the table.

“So, you realize that it is impossible for you to be alive, right?” Jeremy began. Parker nodded. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but you were dead for months. I turned your body over to the police and everything, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Parker raised an eyebrow and started sputtering out questions. Jeremy ignored him. “Even if you had been fine throughout that, just sleeping or something, you still had to dig out of your grave and coffin. That’s six feet of dirt on top of sturdy wood.”

“I did blackout a few times during it,” Parker interjected.

“Exactly. So, today I followed Cib, Steve, James, and Autumn up to the Cobb Estate. Did anything happen to you today with Andrew around 2 o’clock?”

Parker thought for a second. “I did get hit by a bus. That might have been 2 o’clock.”

Jeremy blinked in surprise. “Didn’t expect that. Anyway, Autumn was screaming and shooting lasers out of her eyes. And then they dropped her onto a rock, and she stopped, but she was stuck. James went in to pull her out, but he starting spitting up blood, so Cib went in instead.”

Parker took another swig.

“Andrew just shot you in the head. That should have killed you. Instead, Cib dies and Autumn says it looks like he got shot.”

Parker’s hand shook the bottle, the liquid inside gently splashing.

“So it’s...my fault,” Parker whispered.

“I think whatever is going on with that rock, it tied your life force to someone else’s. First Autumn, and now, well, Cib.”

Parker breathed shaken breaths, clearly trying to process this information. Jeremy stared him down, absently wishing he had grabbed his sunglasses off the floor on the way over. He looked much more intimidating and removed that way.

Eventually, Parker’s breathing became more even as he put himself together. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, aborting several sentences as he tried to figure out what to say.

“So, basically,” Parker began, staring at the label on the bottle still resting in his hand, “as long as I’m alive, Cib will be dead.”

“That’s correct.”

Parker nodded, taking another sip of the whiskey. He made a face and sat it down on the coffee table.

“So, when can you bring me to the Cobb Estate?”

“What?” Jeremy said, his eyebrows knitting together. He had been pretty casual about Cib dying - he’d deserved it, after all - but Parker had never been that vindictive. He didn’t expect the other man to want to visit what was essentially the location of Cib’s murder.

“I need to go to the rock. I gotta take Cib’s place.”

Jeremy stood without thinking, slamming his legs into the coffee table. The open whiskey bottle fell over with a thud, leaving an amber trail rushing onto the floor.

“EXCUSE ME?”

Parker didn’t flinch or wince, which meant he was almost certainly tipsy, if not drunk.

Jeremy leaned over to pick up the bottle, liquid splashing onto his fingers. He carried the bottle over to the kitchen counter, yelling the entire time.

“No, no, no, absolutely not.”

“It’s my decision, Jeremy,” Parker said, not bothering to leave the couch.

“First of all, you’re drunk,” Jeremy began, storming back into the living room and throwing an accusatory finger at Parker.

“Just tipsy,” Parker interjected quietly.

“And second of all, I’m not letting you die again!”

Parker gave an absent shrug. “It’s not like I wanna die again,” he explained, twisting his fingers together, “but Cib doesn’t deserve it.”

“Cib doesn’t deserve it,” Jeremy said in disbelief, throwing himself back down in his chair, “Cib. The man who killed you. Doesn’t deserve to die.”

Parker shook his head.

“Do you even know why he killed you?”

Parker shook his head again. “I’m sure he had a good reason though,” he said, pointedly staring at the floor.

Jeremy let loose an exasperated sigh and ran his hands down his face. If Cib had a good reason, he certainly hadn’t been told. That day on the lake, after the boys tried to intimidate him into leaving them alone, Cib had confirmed that yes, he had killed Parker.

“Events happen where Parker had to die. You know what I mean?” Cib had said, “You’re cordially invited to my apology. I’m sorry dude.”

Jeremy had accepted his apology, because Cib was an acquaintance he might need one day, but not really, because Parker had been his only real friend. ‘Events’ wasn’t even a good explanation.

Jeremy looked at Parker now, small, quiet, and fragile, and couldn’t imagine a single event where he deserved to die.

“Parker, please be reasonable about this,” Jeremy said, trying to keep his voice measured. Parker looked like he might break into pieces at any moment.

“I’ve made up my mind. I won’t let Cib stay dead,” Parker said, looking at Jeremy with an unwavering confidence that was alien in his eyes.

There was something else in his eyes though, that Jeremy couldn’t place. It reminded him of Jenneth, the day she broke up with him. Confidence she was making the right decision but a regret that it had come to this, that it couldn’t work, that they didn’t have more time, that her love wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling away.

And then an idea struck Jeremy he had never considered.

“Parker,” Jeremy said slowly, “It was never Sami Jo, was it?”

Parker blanched, making a move for the liquor bottle that was gone. His hand grasped at the air. He gaped like a fish a few times, his eyes darting around the room, and Jeremy knew Parker well enough to know he was furiously battling down a panic attack.

“Parker…” Jeremy tried to start a sentence reassuring him, but then he realized he had no idea what to say.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or even a full year, Parker ran his hands through his hair, closed his eyes, and steadied his breathing once more.

“It would have been so much easier if it was Sami Jo,” Parker said eventually, his head tipped back to look at the ceiling.

This was the room Cib killed Parker in, Jeremy realized belatedly. Parker loved Cib, and Cib murdered him in his living room for no good reason.

If Jeremy hadn’t wanted Cib to stay dead before, he was now willing to go destroy the rock at Cobb with his bare hands. Fuck him, Jeremy thought with raw venom. Cib fucking deserved to rot in hell for this, for murdering Parker, for having no regrets, for getting off scot-free.

“Jeremy,” Parker said, his voice tired and flimsy, “you’re going to break our chair.”

Jeremy glanced down at his hand, which was white-knuckled on the armrest. He used his other hand to unclasp his fingers meticulously, trying to control his temper. The last thing Parker needed was for Jeremy to get upset.

“Parker,” Jeremy said, as cooly as he could manage, “I know you love him, but it changes nothing. He killed you with no regrets.”

“I went to kill him,” Parker said suddenly, and Jeremy was thankful he had already been sitting down or he would have fallen flat on his ass. When Parker had come back to him at the pier, he looked like a strong breeze would break him in half. He was starved, his emotions flickering between vacant or melancholy, with an occasional flavoring of brutally depressed and sickeningly anxious. He couldn’t imagine this Parker, or any Parker for that matter, going to kill anyone, let alone the man he had feelings for.

Parker took his silence as an invitation to continue. “I was angry. Really, really angry, for a while. I didn’t...I know that he thought I was in love with his girlfriend, because it was easier that way, because I wanted him to think that, but like...he came in drunk as fuck, and he killed me. He asked if I was a good listener, and didn’t even explain what that meant, and killed me in cold blood. So I was angry.”

Parker absently dug his fingernails into his knee. He took a few breaths to steady himself, and then released his hand, flexing the fingers a few times.

“Anyway, it was before I even came to find you. I drove up to Santa Monica one morning to go to Sami Jo’s house. I figured y’know, if I’m gonna find Cib anywhere, right? I broke in through the backdoor and I had a pillow that I stole from the motel I’d been staying at and I thought,‘This is it. I’m gonna strangle him to death’.  
“And then...and then he woke up. Right as I walked in the room. And do you know what he said to me Jeremy? He said ‘You should do it. I deserve it.’ Like what the fuck, right?”

Parker rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, and with a mixture of pity and horror, Jeremy realized he was crying.

“He told me he deserved it and went right back to sleep. So I left. I drove ten minutes down the road, had a full on breakdown, and then went back to the motel. I can’t…”

Parker pressed his fingers into his eyes hard, his fingernails curling up to scratch at his eyebrows.

“Careful of your bandages,” Jeremy interjected softly. Parker made a face that said he had totally forgotten about them, and dropped his hands back into his lap. His fingers twisted together, easily enough that Jeremy could tell Parker’s palms were sweating.

“It’s okay if you don’t understand,” Parker said eventually, so quiet Jeremy could barely make him out, “but I love him. I still love him, even after he murdered me, so I think I’m pretty much done for. And if he wanted me to kill him, if he regretted my death that much, I can’t imagine that it was in cold blood. I can’t punish him over an accident.”

Jeremy pressed his lips together, considering.

Parker unfurled himself and slid off the couch. He stuck his hands in his pockets, took them back out, and repeated the process for what felt like an eternity, but was realistically only a minute or two. He settled with his fingers in the pocket but his thumbs looped through the belt buckle.

“I can’t let Cib die so I can live. He has so much going for him, and so much more life to live, so much...potential. Besides, I’m not meant to be alive anyway. So with or without you, I’m going to go stand on that weird rock and whatever happens happens.”

Jeremy stood up. He strode across the room and placed his hand on Parker’s shoulder, gently squeezing.

“Alright,” he said. Parker looked at him in surprise. “Fine, I’ll bring you up to the Cobb Estate. But I gotta go talk to Autumn and Steve first, I told them to give me an hour and it’s almost up,” Jeremy said, pointedly glancing at his cell phone clock.

He gently pushed Parker towards the steps to the basement, more of an encouragement than a demand.

“Go take a shower - but don’t get your head wet, remember the bandages. Change your clothes, make yourself some food. Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone; it’s not like it’ll kill you anyway. And when I get back, we’ll drive up, okay?”

Parker genuinely smiled, and Jeremy felt his heart fragment a bit. Parker most definitely needed to go see a therapist after this if his inevitable death made him this excited.

“Thanks Jeremy. For everything.” Parker pulled Jeremy into a hug, tightly squeezing him before disappearing down the steps.

Jeremy waited until he heard the shower click on to leave, grabbing his keys and the pieces of Andrew’s gun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket as he sat down, typing in the contact without looking. He knew the number well enough already.

“Hey Andrew, it’s me...no I’m not mad. I think we should talk about it, y’know. No Parker isn’t coming. I thought that was best...yeah, I know it’s weird Andrew. Just, are you already driving? Meet me at the Cobb Estate. I’ll send you the pin. We can go for a hike and just figure out what to do, alright? Alright, see you there.”

Jeremy dropped his phone onto the passenger seat next to the gun and slid the key into the ignition. Fine, if Parker didn’t want Cib to die so bad, Jeremy could compromise. But he sure as shit wasn’t gonna let Parker die instead. Andrew was the reason they were in the mess in the first place.

Besides, Jeremy thought to himself as he sped off, eye for an eye.


End file.
